


nothing like you and i

by HeartonFire



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Rating May Change, Reunions, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: Frank Castle is dead. Karen has come to terms with that, processed it, moved on.But now he's back. Frank Castle is alive, and he's handing her a glass of whiskey.





	1. dreaming about who we used to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt by [camille-bee](https://camille-bee.tumblr.com). Part 1 of 2.  
> Karen and Frank haven’t seen each other for years because she believes he is dead. He reappears and they finally meet again but Karen is in a committed relationship with someone else. They begin to reminisce of what could’ve been if FRANK WASNT SO DAMN STUBBORN!  
> Then they don’t see each other again for a couple of months but when they meet again, Karen is single and Frank wants to give love a try again, with her. ✌❤
> 
> Enjoy!

To anyone who mattered, to anyone who asked, Frank Castle was dead.

He knew it was the right thing to do. He needed to leave her alone. Let her find happiness without him. And sure, he had heard about what happened at the Bulletin and with Fisk and it made him want to tear the heads off anyone who had ever touched so much as a hair on her blonde head, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, it was easier if he disappeared. It was easier if she thought he was dead. 

Scumbags whispered that the Punisher was back, but he managed to keep that pretty quiet. Not hard to do, when you kill all the witnesses.

She might wonder, sometimes, but she would never know for sure. As far as Karen Page was concerned, Frank Castle was dead.

He might as well have been dead. He threw himself into his work, such as it was. Curtis tried to pull him back, but even he recognized he couldn’t stop him. Amy was in Florida. Madani was working for the CIA. The Liebermans were safe and happy without him. It was better this way. Better for everyone.

He still wondered sometimes, if she knew. If she suspected. If she heard the whispers and thought,  _ maybe _ .

It didn’t matter. He left the city, chased down threads that led to mobsters and gangs and drug cartels. He couldn’t be stopped. He kept moving. Always moving. No connections meant no weaknesses. No fear.

Some fear always followed him, though. He thought about her. Dreamed about her. Wondered what she was doing. If she was happy. He hoped she was. She deserved that.

He stayed away. Stayed dead.

Until he couldn’t. Until he got a call from Leo Lieberman, begging him to come to her school to see her get an award. He would have wondered how she tracked him down, but David would know how to find him. Of course he would. He tried to think of a good excuse, tried to think of a reason not to go. There weren’t any. He couldn’t disappoint her. Not that little girl. Not after everything she’d been through.

So, he went. He skirted the city, went straight to their house. He fought down the instinct to drive down her street, see if the flowers were in her window. She must have moved on by now. She must have let him go by now. He didn’t want to find out for sure.

It didn’t matter. He was here for Leo, and then he would leave. That was it. He still had work to do. He couldn’t stay.

“Pete! You came!” Leo was hugging him before he was even all the way out of the car. He squeezed her right back, trying to ignore the tugging feeling in his heart when he held her. She was still small for her age. Still skinny. But not the same.

She led him inside, chattering away about high school and her classes and her friends and Frank was honestly a little overwhelmed. She wasn’t the little girl he had left behind when he let the Liebermans get on with their lives. He tried not to think about how old Lisa would be if she had lived. If he hadn’t gotten her killed.

He swallowed the emotion rising in his chest and followed Leo into the kitchen. There was a banner congratulating Leo, and a smaller one welcoming him. It was obviously homemade and Frank had to look away. This was all too much. He shouldn’t have come.

“Good to see you, buddy,” David said, pulling him into a one-armed hug. Frank couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him without the intent to hurt him. He tensed, but tried to force his body to relax. He was safe here, as safe as he could be anywhere. 

“We weren’t sure you’d be able to make it.” Sarah approached slowly, like he was a wounded animal who could bolt at any moment. Maybe he was. She hugged him, too. She hugged him hard, like she knew how long it had been since he had been near people who knew him, who cared.

“Where’s Zach?” he said, clearing his throat when his voice caught. 

“Football practice.” David shrugged at the expression on Frank’s face. “I think that’s your fault. He didn’t get it from me.”

Sarah slid a beer into his hand and David led him outside. They had built a deck since the last time he had been there. It was spring, and the trees were blooming. A soft breeze lifted the leaves in a whisper that rushed over him like a wave at the beach.

“So, how’ve you been?” David asked him, nudging his beer bottle with his own.

“Like you don’t already know.”

He smiled as he nodded. “You’re right. But you can still tell me.”

Frank hesitated. He knew he could trust David. That wasn’t a question. He just didn’t want to remember it all, relive it all. “Why’d you contact me?”

“I didn’t. That was all Leo.” His smile turned a little sad. “I helped her find you, but she was adamant that you be here.”

“Glad I came, then.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence. They had spent enough time together, back in the bunker, they didn’t have to speak. David knew. He understood. Frank remembered how nice it was to be around people who knew him, knew what he did and who he was and cared about him anyway.

He forced himself not to think about another person who fit that description. He hadn’t seen her in so long, and it was still better for both of them that she think he was dead.

In the guest room that night, he tried to sleep. It was too quiet. He shouldn’t be here. He needed a drink.

He slipped out, got in his truck, and drove. He didn’t have a plan, not really. He just needed a dive bar, where no one would notice or care who he was. He just needed a beer, to soothe the rough edges of his soul enough to let him sleep through the night.

He didn’t read the sign, didn’t notice anything but the warm light pouring from the filthy windows. He pulled to a stop, pushed some quarters into the meter and went inside. It was crowded, noisy, full of chattering people, all drinking and playing pool and ignoring him.

Frank ordered a beer and leaned against the bar. He was content to stay here, watch the people, and go. He didn’t need to talk to anyone. He was used to being alone.

But there she was. His heart skipped in his chest. He felt like he was drowning. He’d know that blonde hair anywhere. She wasn’t looking at him. He could have disappeared again. He couldn’t move.

And when her blue eyes found him, his instinct was to run. He couldn’t do this. It had been too long. It hadn’t been long enough.

She was in front of him before he could get his legs to move. She was there, and she was looking at him, with those eyes full of hurt and confusion and, underneath all that, understanding. She had always understood him. She had always known him. 

“Frank?” Her voice was almost too soft to hear over the noise of the bar. He couldn’t hear anything but her. She reached for him, pulling her hand back before she made contact. Her face was pale, eyes wide.

“Hey, Karen.”

She took a shaky breath. “Where have you been?”

“Buy you a drink and tell you about it?”

She nodded, sliding her glass onto the counter. “Whiskey, neat.”

* * *

Karen watched Frank order her drink from the table in the corner she had claimed for them. She only had seconds to get her mind around this.

Frank Castle was dead. Dinah Madani had all but confirmed it to her when she asked. He was dead. He was gone. Any rumors of the Punisher coming back were just rumors.

Frank Castle was alive. He was handing her a whiskey. Their fingers brushed and a spark jolted through her. He was here. Somehow, he was here.

“Been a long time,” he said quietly. “How’ve you been?”

“It’s been two years, Frank. I thought you were dead.” Her voice shook slightly. She couldn’t help it. She was staring at a ghost.

“Thought that would be easier.”

“Easier?” she whispered. The pain, the fear, the unbearable grief that had gripped her for over a year after he left, it all came rushing back. “Easier for whom, Frank?”

He sat back, like she had shoved him, like he couldn’t believe she would ask that. His eyes were so dark in the dim light, so sad, looking at her. Looking through her, in that way only he could do. “I thought it would be better.”

“After everything we’ve been through?” She wasn’t going to cry. She’d already cried too much over Frank Castle. She swallowed the tears and forced her voice out, thin and harsh against the clamor of the bar. “You didn’t think I could handle it?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t.” He squeezed her hand. Karen let him.

“You should have told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She could see on his face how true that was. He had never been able to hide his feelings from her. His guilt. She noticed he had let go of her hand already. She forced herself not to reach for him again.

“Why are you here? Why are you back?” 

He sighed, picking at the label of his beer bottle. “Liebermans. Their daughter wanted me here for an award thing tomorrow.”

Karen’s heart stuttered. “So, you’ve been in contact with them?” She didn’t mean to sound accusatory. She knew why he did what he did. Why he disappeared. He had done it before. He would probably do it again. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“No. They tracked me down. I couldn’t really say no.”

Karen nodded. The whiskey burned on its way down her throat, helped her focus. “Oh.”

“How’ve you been?” His head was down. He wasn’t really looking at her. His finger was twitching against the table.

“Fine.” She swallowed. She had to tell him. “I’ve been seeing someone, actually.”

She knew she didn’t imagine the way Frank’s face fell, but he nodded. “Yeah, I figured.” He cleared his throat. “Is it serious?”

Karen didn’t want to think about what he was really asking. She couldn’t. “Yes.”

It was. He was a good man. A kind man. A man who brought her flowers and took her to dinner and didn’t have to hide from the police or pretend to hold her hostage. 

They’d met through Foggy. Actually, through Marci. He was an attorney. It made sense. They were comfortable. They were talking about moving in together. They were making a life together. She wasn’t about to throw that away. 

And if sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep, she thought of Frank, wondered what might have been, that was okay. She hadn’t told anyone what happened that day, in the hospital. Nothing had happened. Not really.

“I’m happy for you.” He gritted out the words, though his eyes were soft. He was always so gentle with her. It hurt to remember that.

“Thank you.” She bit her lip. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah. Good to see you.”

“Especially with no blood or bruises or anything.”

He shrugged, a shadow of a smile lifting his features. “Can’t say that, exactly.”

“Well, at least fewer of them than last time I saw you.”

Frank nodded. “That’s true.” He was studying her face, like he was remembering that day, just like she was.

It had faded a little around the edges, but that moment was as sharp as it had been that day. That moment, before Frank’s sidekick interrupted them. That moment, when she thought they might have finally found  _ their _ moment.

But it was not to be. She had left, barefoot and heartbroken. Frank had escaped, disappeared again, without a trace. 

And now, here he was. So close, she could smell him, that mix of gunpowder and sweat and blood that could only be Frank. So close, it was like he never left.

This was dangerous. She needed to leave. She drained her glass and stood. Frank stood too, watching her cautiously, like he thought she might hit him. 

Instead, she threw her arms around him, one last time. She knew she might never see him again. She had to make it count. Make it mean something. He was here for a reason. She was too.

She let go of him sooner than she wanted to. She stepped back, pushing her fingers through her hair. Too much had happened. Too much time had gone by. She had too much to lose.

“Take care, Frank.”

“Be careful, Karen.”

And she left. She walked outside, hailed a cab, and went home. When she looked at her phone, she had three texts from her boyfriend. She texted him back, assured him she was safe, and tried to sleep.

She was anything but safe. Frank Castle was back from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! I need a little more time to think through their second reunion, but I wanted to post this part, because these two hurt me and I think we all need a little Kastle angst in our lives.
> 
> Next chapter should be up soon. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	2. i'll crawl home to her

It was like an infection. A virus she couldn’t shake. Every time Karen closed her eyes, she saw him, felt his hand on hers, heard the gravel of his voice. She thought she had processed the loss. She had. She had grieved for over a year after he disappeared the last time. But he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead, and now she knew it.

Something had shifted inside her. She was off-balance, unsteady. Everyone could see it. 

It didn’t take long for her relationship to disintegrate. He could tell something was different. She couldn’t tell him what it was. She couldn’t even admit it to herself. Not really.

It was just there, in the back of her mind. She half-expected to see him every time she turned around, like he was lurking there, just out of sight, waiting for her to find him.

But that was ridiculous. He had been in town for a night, stopped into a random bar. He was not moving back for her. He was still the Punisher, and he still didn’t want her to be part of that. Why wouldn’t he tell her he was alive if he wanted her around?

It wasn’t that simple, though. He was alive and he had held her hand. He reached for her, this time. Those things were true, no matter what else had happened between them. No matter how many times they had come together, only to be torn apart by circumstance. He was alive and now she knew it.  

She was sad, truly sorry, when her boyfriend left for the last time with a sad shake of his head. Things had been good. She had been building a life. But he wasn’t Frank. He wasn’t who she really wanted, as much as she wanted him to be. It was only fair to let him go, let him find someone who deserved him.

Even after that, even after she had blown up her whole life, she tried to push the thoughts away, tried to ignore the hole in her heart that she wasn’t sure she’d ever really be able to fill. She buried herself in her work. She came in first and left last almost every day. She hardly ate, rarely slept. She was grieving all over again, this time for a man she knew was alive, a man just out of reach. Foggy and Matt were concerned, but they knew well enough by now that Karen could take care of herself. They didn’t press. They didn’t pry. But they knew something was wrong. She could see it in their eyes every time they looked at her.

Finally, she gave in and went back to that bar. She hadn’t meant to be there in the first place, that first time, but she had to know. If she went, and Frank wasn’t there, that would be the closure she needed. She would put Frank in the past, for good this time. And if he was there, then that was something else. Either way, she had to do it. She had to know.

Karen felt him before she saw him. Something in the air told her Frank was there. Every hair on her arms stood on end and she whipped her head around, searching for him. 

And there he was. Short hair, hood up. There wasn’t enough air in the bar. She couldn’t breathe. She looked away from him, forced her body to the door. She sank against the rough brick facade and tried to fill her lungs. She was drowning. 

“Karen?”

She shook her head. She needed him to leave. She wanted him to stay. Every thought that had haunted her dreams, shadowed her steps, every single thing she wanted to say to him came rushing back and vanished as soon as she heard him.

Karen needed to say something. She had to start somewhere.

“What are you doing here, Frank?”

He shook his head, looking down at his scuffed boots. He couldn’t look at her either.

“I wanted to see you.” He peeked up at her and those brown eyes caught her again. They always did. He looked sad, almost scared. But he couldn’t be scared of her. It didn’t make sense.

“You did?” Her voice caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure she believed him. “Then what took you so long?”

He stepped back, eyes wide. “I didn’t want to mess you up. It seemed like you had a life, and I’m not trying to break that.”

He wasn’t trying to break  _ her _ . She heard it beneath the words. As though he hadn’t broken her more times than she could count. Broken her and left her to put the pieces back together. Over and over again, until she wasn’t sure there were any pieces left that hadn’t been broken before.

“It’s too late, Frank.” His face fell, and she realized what he heard when she said it. It wasn’t what she meant. Not at all.

“I get it.” He shook his head again, eyes falling to the pavement. “I’m happy for you.”

He turned to go, but Karen couldn’t let him. Not again. Not now.

“Frank.” She touched his arm and he froze, staring down at her hand, just like he had in the hospital. Like he couldn’t believe she was touching him. Like he didn’t understand why she would. Like he still didn’t know for sure. “Wait.”

* * *

He meant to leave, after the last time. He tried. He went to Leo’s ceremony and packed his stuff to leave again.

But instead, he found himself a place in the city that rented by the week, found a job that didn’t involve putting bullets in shitbags’ heads. He stayed.

He went back to that damn bar nearly every night, wondering if she’d come back. Hoping she would. Hoping she wouldn’t. She deserved to be happy, and he wasn’t the right guy to do that for her. He knew that. She was with someone. It was serious. She had told him that. She was always honest with him. 

But he still kept coming back. He didn’t know if he’d see her again. He could have asked David to help, track her down. He could have gone by her apartment. She deserved more than that. 

But then, finally, she appeared. He saw her tense as soon as he stepped closer and he was sure, then, that she was there to see him. He didn’t know why she would, but there she was. 

When she ran outside, ran away from him, he felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest. She hated him. She didn’t want to see him, after all. She had come here, maybe for closure, maybe for something other than him, and he had broken that for her. 

He followed her anyway. He had no choice. She had always had a pull on him, her own gravitational field he couldn’t resist. He didn’t want to.

She always asked him the same question, when it was just the two of them. Why was he here? It was a good question. He wished he had a better answer.

He was ready to leave, when she told him it was too late. He understood. He did. He hated it, hated himself for letting it get this far, but he understood.

Her hand on his arm burned through him like a brand. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. He didn’t want to.

“Frank.” Karen’s voice shook a little when she said his name again. She wasn’t letting go.

And then she was kissing him. He was still frozen, for a moment. And then, his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her to him. He didn’t push, didn’t press his tongue into her mouth. He just kissed her back. Her hair was soft under his fingertips. Her body was warm, molding to his like she was meant to be there. Like she was meant for him. 

But she wasn’t. He knew that. He nudged her back a little, letting his hands fall away from her. He wasn’t going to blow up her life. She had already told him it was too late for him. She wouldn’t lie about that.

His head felt fuzzy, like it was full of cotton. It might as well have been, for all the words he could think to say.

She was breathing hard now, lips pink and full. He wanted to kiss her again. She wasn’t his to kiss.

“You have someone. You told me that. Before.” He forced the words out, not sure what he was saying until he was already saying it.

Karen half-smiled, but the edges were sad. “Not anymore.”

Frank’s heart leapt, but it couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. “What?” His voice came out as little more than a croak. “Why?” 

“You know why.”

His hands were trembling now. His brain was trying to catch up, but he couldn’t quite process this. How she was looking at him. How she was reaching for him. What she was saying to him.

“No. Don’t do that. Karen, please, don’t do that.” She had a life. He had ruined that for her. His pleas sounded feeble in the dim light outside the bar. He couldn’t push her away anymore. He didn’t have it in him. Not after this.

“I told you already, it’s too late.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, but she was careful, cautious, gentler with him than he deserved. Her eyes searched his and he saw something click into place for her. “I’m already yours.”

His heart was pounding its way out of his ribcage, and he couldn’t help himself. Not when she was here, like this, fingernails scraping softly through the short hair at the back of his neck, hips pressing into his.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, harder this time. Their teeth scraped together and her tongue was in his mouth before he could breathe. He tilted his head and trailed sloppy kisses down the long column of her pale throat. She leaned into the touch and he marveled at that. She knew what he was. She knew what he could do. She had seen it, firsthand. And still, she melted under his touch. She trusted him.

He wouldn’t let her down. Not again.

“Let’s go,” Karen said, voice breathy and low. Frank nodded. He’d follow her wherever she went. She was his. He was hers.

This might be the most reckless thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t back out now. He wouldn’t.

* * *

Karen thought it was a dream, when she woke up the next day and found the bed cold. It wouldn’t be the first time she had dreamed of Frank, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

But the ache between her legs wasn’t a dream, and when she looked in the mirror, the redness of her skin and the purple bites along her neck, those weren’t a dream either. She padded out to the kitchen and found a fresh bouquet of white roses and a cup of coffee that was still steaming. There was also a note, with a single word and a phone number.

_ Dinner? _

She smiled and went to take a shower. She wasn’t going to be able to hide this. She didn’t want to.

Frank was back. Really back. And he was hers, as much as she was his. They would have to be careful, but that was fine. More than fine. It was their after, and it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the conclusion to this fic, prompted by the lovely [camille-bee](https://camille-bee.tumblr.com/). I'm trying to stretch myself to not always go right to smut, so I faded to black for that on this fic. There will be more smut coming soon though, I promise.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are so, so appreciated!
> 
> <3


End file.
